


i could use a little more (you)

by badartndadjokes



Series: how far we’ve come (drabbles and one shots) [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Wayhaught Week, Wayhaught Week 2020, Wynonnus Interruptus, stereotypical lesbian handiness, wynaught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badartndadjokes/pseuds/badartndadjokes
Summary: wayhaught week day 4! wynonnus interruptusor or“Need anything?” Waverly asks breathlessly. “Or are you about done?”She looks up at the finished roof, and then to the pails of paint that sit on the porch. She half-shrugs, hands tightening on Waverly’s waist.“I think I’m done for today,” she decides. The thought of collapsing back in bed with the girl in her arms is far more appealing that sweating away into the night over spackle and plaster.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: how far we’ve come (drabbles and one shots) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659784
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	i could use a little more (you)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Wayhaught day four! We have a mild case of Wynonnus Interruptus, with a heavy side of fluff and cute.

_It was right about sunset_  
_She was sitting pretty_ _on the front steps_  
_She said hey baby are you done yet_  
_Are you gonna work all day_  
_I started walking up the driveway_  
_She said I'm headed inside babe_  
_Before the screen door_ _slammed she turned and asked_  
_If I needed anything_

**little more you -- josh abbott band**

She offers to help fix up the Homestead on her days off. It’s easy, menial tasks that don’t take a lot of time, but no one’s really gotten around to doing them in the two years they’ve lived back here. Wynonna wouldn’t know a phillips head from a hacksaw, and she’s terrified of the thought of giving Waverly power tools in fear of the look on the girl’s face when she gets ahold of weapons.

So she sets to doing it herself.

The roof needs patching. When it rains they have strategically placed buckets throughout the house and somehow Nicole always ends up with droplets hitting her in the forehead when she sleeps on the left side of Waverly’s bed. 

She gets a weird look from the owner of Purgatory’s only hardware shop when she throws mismatched shingles up on the counter and about six things of roof sealant, squinting his eyes at her when he asks if she wants any galvanized roof nails. It takes everything in her not to ask him what his issue is, but she straightens her shoulders and watches the way his eyes widen at the sheriff’s badge tucked into her belt. 

He doesn’t ask any more questions after that. 

It’s barely after nine when she pulls up at the Homestead. She can see that most of the lights in the house are off still, but Waverly’s curtain flutters out of her open window. The load of shingles and bags of roofing supplies get deposited on the kitchen table, and she does her best not to let the stairs creak as she creeps past Wynonna’s room.

Waverly sees her before she’s even stepped into the room. 

She smiles before she can help it, eyes crinkling at the sight of Waverly curled up in the chair in the corner with a huge tome spread across her lap. 

“Mornin’,” She says quietly. The atmosphere in the room feels too soft and undisturbed to speak loudly.

Waverly sits up a little straighter and drops the book onto the ledge of the window, leaping up gracefully to stride across the room. Her arms wind around Nicole’s neck as she dots several kisses to her lips.

She grins, whispering, “Good morning, baby,” before landing a more solid kiss square on her mouth.

It goes on a little longer than most greetings would, but hey, who’s judging.

She twists her fingers in the fabric of Waverly’s thin sleep shorts as the girl lowers herself back off her tiptoes.

“I didn’t know you were coming by today,” Waverly says, eyebrows quirked. “Miss me?”

Laughing softly, Nicole thumbs at Waverly’s hip bones. “Always. But I also have been noticing the Homestead looks a little worse for wear, and I thought I’d stop by and help patch ‘er up.”

“You don’t have to do that, baby,” Waverly starts protesting.

Nicole is quick to refute gently, “I know, I know. But I’d sleep a little better at night at my own house, _and_ here if I knew your house wasn’t falling apart.”

“It is _not_ falling apart, thank you, ” Waverly scoffs, “It’s just got character.”

Nicole makes a face, “If the character is old, crotchety, and dilapidated, sure.”

“Hey!” Waverly laughs, slapping a hand to Nicole’s chest, “That’s my house you’re talking about.”

“Exactly! Which is why I-” Nicole says, pulling Waverly closer to her until their hips align and Waverly’s head tips back, “Am here to help fix it up. Because it’s your house. And, I love you and don’t necessarily want you or Wynonna to have to deal with a roof cave in or anything disastrous because we didn’t take any steps to prevent them.”

Waverly’s eyes flutter at Nicole’s breath ghosting across her cheeks from so close and her lips turn up in a smile. “And I _love_ that you’re taking the time to do that, almost as much as I love you too.”

Nicole kisses the corner of Waverly’s smile softly before stepping away. She huffs at the lack of contact but the face she makes is adorable enough that it makes the smile already on Nicole’s lips spread. 

“So what exactly are you planning on doing?” Waverly asks once she’s settled back into her chair. 

Plucking at the corner of her near threadbare flannel that’s slowly been pulling out of the tuck into her pants, she nods upwards at the roof. “I bought some roof repair stuff, so we can stop worrying about leaks when it rains. And I know there’s some plaster and paint in the barn to fix up the walls a bit.”

She shoves the ends of her shirt back into her jeans as she talks, the toe of her work boot scooting along the floor. Waverly’s eyes follow her hands, like she just now seeing her, and when they raise back up to eye level, there’s a new flush on her cheeks.

“If I can get that stuff done before it’s dark,” Nicole continues, not without pausing to smirk at the appreciative look Waverly is giving her, “I thought I’d head out to the lumber yard in the city and get some wood to patch up the porch. Wynonna’s leg went through it the last time we came back from Shorty’s late and I trip on the broken plank every time I walk inside.”

Waverly’s jaw drops. “That’s so much, Nicole, you really don’t have to do any of that.”

“But I _want_ to,” Nicole says, shushing her. 

It only takes a few strides to cross the room to her perch on that rickety chair. Waverly stretches up to kiss her, and she feels cool fingers wind themselves in the hair at the back of her neck. She hums against Waverly’s lips, deepening the kiss for a moment until her back starts to ache from draping herself over Waverly’s seated form.

She pulls back half an inch, lips still pressed together, and murmurs, “I’m gonna go start on the roof, or I’ll never finish with you distracting me.”

Waverly protests, weakly grabbing onto the loops of Nicole’s jeans to pull her back into a kiss. She presses her lips against the crest of Waverly’s forehead, smiles at her grumbling, and slips out of her arms before she can be convinced to stay.

The early May sun is bright as it crests over the trees behind the Homestead. She slips the sunglasses she keeps in the cruiser onto her nose and finds the ricketiest ladder she's ever seen in the barn. It’s passably stable, and quivers in a way that makes her a little afraid, but she climbs onto the roof fast enough that she doesn’t worry too much about it. 

It takes her a couple hours, but by the time she manages to peel up half of the roofs shingles and replace them with new ones, and seal all the spaces between the old, it’s almost sunset. So much for doing all the other things on her list today.

When she slips off the nightmare-ladder, Waverly’s made her way outside and is standing with her hands on her hips as she squints up at the roof. There’s a pitcher of sweet tea on the porch that she _knows_ has whiskey in it, and glasses with ice leave sweat rings in the wood. 

“I can’t believe you spent your whole Saturday out here fixing up my roof,” Waverly says disbelievingly.

Shrugging, Nicole loops an arm around Waverly’s waist. Waverly’s shoulder drops as she rests a chin on it, and the way Waverly settles back into her arms with a happy sigh nearly gives her goosebumps.

She kisses the top of Waverly’s head, smiling, “It was kind of fun. I haven’t done a lot of stuff with my hands- hey, don’t make a face at that, I didn’t mean it like- since I moved to Purgatory. When I was a teenager I did a lot of manual labor and handyman type things for pocket money, but I didn’t have anything to fix when I got here.”

Waverly hums. “Feel free to do something with your hands anytime, Sheriff,” and she can’t see her face but she knows, _knows_ , there’s a shit-eating grin there.

Turning in her arms, Waverly slips her hands up to dangle around her neck. That grin is there, for sure. 

She kisses her, sunset lighting up gold the flyaway strands of her hair that have slipped from her bun, and the pretty blush that crests her cheeks making it impossible not to. Her hands come to rest at the curve in the small of Waverly’s back and slip underneath the soft material of _her_ PSD shirt. So that’s where that went.

When they break away, Waverly’s eyes near black with her pupils and chest rising softly against her own, she’s hit by the not-so-startling realization of how much she loves this girl.

“Need anything?” Waverly asks breathlessly. “Or are you about done?”

She looks up at the finished roof, and then to the pails of paint that sit on the porch. She half-shrugs, hands tightening on Waverly’s waist.

“I think I’m done for today,” she decides. The thought of collapsing back in bed with the girl in her arms is far more appealing that sweating away into the night over spackle and plaster. 

Waverly hums and reaches up to kiss her again. It could be minutes, hours, days later when a shout comes from behind them.

“Is this the start of a porno on my own front porch?”

It’s Wynonna, always Wynonna, of course. She groans and pulls back from Waverly slowly.

Waverly giggles into her chest, and Nicole feels a vindictive spirit flow through her.

She turns to see Wynonna standing a couple feet away, Doc’s arm slung over her shoulders. Chancing a glance down to Waverly’s smiling face, she swings her arm down and braces it against the back of the girl’s knees, scooping her up.

Her other hand comes around her ribs and she lazily flips Wynonna off.

“Not on the porch,” She says around a laugh. Waverly’s giggle has turned into a full blown guffaw as she is cradled against Nicole’s chest, and Wynonna rolls her eyes at them. “But I’d steer clear of her bedroom for a while.”

She dashes up the stairs and smiles in victory at Wynonna’s loud protest behind her.

It’s the little things.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter or tumblr if u want
> 
> @badartndadjokes


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